


Disciplined for his Own Good

by Cordy69 (Pat)



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, Discipline, Friendship, M/M, Punishment, Spanked Spike Ficathon, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pat/pseuds/Cordy69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike is rattled by his meeting with Dayna the damaged slayer, the loss of his hand, the subsequent surgery and when he goes back home he just doesn't feel like a white knight anymore ready to fight the evils of this world. Angel gets him focussed on what is important again thanks to a double spanking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disciplined for his Own Good

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an answer to the following prompt:
> 
> Prompt: (22) Angel/Spike - Angel proves that while he may have a soul now, he is still not above disciplining his boy. 
> 
> The Spanked Spike Fic/Artathon created by whichclothes can be found here: http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/331911.html

Disciplined for his Own Good by Cordy69

 

Spike was finally ready to leave the private room at the hospital he had recovered in from his tragic encounter with Dana, the damaged slayer. More than the physical trauma, he still almost feels a phantom cut in his arm, it’s the realization that this world was just fucked up, and he, Spike was part of the imbalance. 

Spike thought he had made peace with his past deeds years earlier, finding love again with Buffy, working on getting his soul back, fighting the good fight, but Dana brought forth all the little details he had so easily discarded, the deaths that hadn’t mattered, the broken victims he had left behind, and brought forth a desire to maybe get involved into building a better future out there, for those that have no voice, no hope, no options.

 

He had fallen in that funk without notice, depressed, not seeing the point one way or the other. He could see Angel wasn’t happy, dare he say pissed, but he just failed to care… 

The ride home was smooth, Angel tried to start an exchange but Spike felt loopy, not really capable of maintaining a conversation, so instead they reverted to what amounted to a companionable silence between the two, a hard earned peace. Still, Spike was happy when Angel followed him in his suite. He was back to his old self physically but still didn’t want to stay alone and face the whispers of the past, wallow in self-pity or drown in alcohol. Talking with the pouf or even simply riling him up was clearly the best way to go!

 

*** *** ***

 

“Well, our friends from Sunnydale have picked their side, haven’t they?” The warm up blood in his glass was getting him back on track; ready to push Angel’s envelop, and provide a buffer if not protection from his own thoughts.

 

“Spike. Don’t start!” Angel had his own cup and was enjoying it as he spread on the sofa across from the blond vampire. He had his eyes closed, his head reclined back, one of his arms hugging the arm rest, and he presented the perfect picture of a man resting after a long day, letting his worries go.

 

Spike though, he had lived with him… For a long time… And he had learned to be weary of the soulless version of the vamp across from him. Maybe the new and improved model was nicer, more prone to forgive, but he doubted that something so visceral would disappear from Angel’s character altogether. Therefore, he was watching him, ready to bolt if needed, ready to fight if it came to it.

 

“Calm down Spike… I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re fine. Settle down already.”

 

“Easy for you to say mate, I feel like I am walking on egg shells with you.” And it was true, there was something akin to energy vibrating between the two of them and Spike wasn’t sure how to react.

 

“I’ve lost too much lately and at this point I just want to know you are okay. I want to promise we will win the fight and that we will stand up proud and tall at the end; but… I can’t. So, I just want to know you won’t let what happened with Dana, change you, and change the big picture. I want assurance you’ll have my back and that you know I’ll have yours.” By the end, Angel had opened his eyes, fixating on the one member of his family still at his side, the person that has seen him at his worse and at his best. This was important and he wanted to be certain the message was understood.

 

Spike eyes were a mere slits, he knew what Angel meant but he couldn’t give him that kind of assurance. 

 

“Angel, I can’t… I don’t even know if I want or can be here. I can’t be useful in my state. I’m full of self-loathing, and can’t believe I’d be helpful to anyone.”

 

Sure that was whispered but Angel heard it loud and clear. “You can’t be serious. Just sleep it off, man and tomorrow you will be your old self!”

 

“I won’t… I can’t think of anything else.”

 

“Then let me put your mind back to the matter at hand.” Angel sat straight and left the empty cup on the side table.

“Com’ here, boy.”

Spike looked at him like he grew a new head.

“What?”

“You heard me… You know the drill; you drop trou and come here!”

“But, I didn’t do anything wrong…”

“You’re no use like this Spike. You need to focus on the mission, and you know as well as I do, it won’t happen in your current state of mind.”

“You may be right but I don’t feel like letting you tan my hide, just because” Spike was standing up now, pent up energy pouring off him, pacing the floor and just flabbergasted by the insane request.

“First, we both know you need it. And in any case, this is not open for debate.”

“Sure it is. It’s my ass!”

“Does it really matter boy? You got whipped before, what’s a small spanking in the great scheme of things?”

“I know you though… And, I know ‘your small spanking’ is going to be a hell of a ride, plus I kinda value my backside.”

Angel stood. Spike backed up. This couldn’t be good.

“Are you testing me, Spike? I can count… and by three you better be undressed, folded on the back of the sofa.”

Spike was fast. He didn’t want Angelus to count. In the back of his mind, he realized this was Angel talking and he had high hopes that Angel is not the bastard his soulless counterpart was, but he had been trained by the most vicious vampires in existence, he knew when to fucking follow an order…

Angel wanted to count… Really. There was a thrill in it that he rediscovered. He smirked at how easily they stepped back into the right roles. He, the disciplinarian, and Spike the recipient of a well deserved thrashing. 

Sometimes, he just missed the good ole days…

 

*** *** ***

 

Angel stretched a bit, his arms extended over his head, his knuckles joined together and popped, his steps loose and his mind clear. It’s not that he wants to make Spike suffer; well his vamp may not mind it so much… But he also understood the kind of peace and clarity that can come from a good spanking. Yes, mister, those exist. They are not really brutal, they are well paced, they are applied with a calm and experienced hand and of course the result is still a victimized backside; still though it definitively frees the mind.

He was finally behind the bane of his life… The bleached terror was bent over the leather sofa, pants at the ankles, black t-shirt thrown on the floor, hands clasped behind his back and framing Spike’s white firm globes: a vision of beauty!

 

“We start at fifty, and you count them down!” And that was the start of Spike’s ordeal.

“Fifty” was almost casually thrown in when a powerful spank from Angel rocked him against the back of the sturdy piece of furniture. They both felt the immediate heat though, Angel in the tingling of his palm and Spike in the handprint that had marked the side of his right buttock.

“Forty-nine” that had been a stinger, Angel aiming for the underside of his butt and lifting him clear off the ground.

“Forty-eight” well he was in for a hell of a ride because the ponce was not holding back!

“Forty-seven” and that one caught both cheeks at a time, the impact so powerful he vamped out for a second before schooling back his features.

“Forty-six” and Spike yelped, a real freaking girly yelp but come on that spank on his thigh was simply vicious!

“Forty-five” 

And as the numbers were rattled out loud, Angel got into the zone… Looming over the punished vamp, anticipating the squirms, the evading techniques, when Spike wouldn’t be able to hold his arms tights and try to protect his backside, and most of all how to paint that blank canvas the marvelous shades of white, red and blue, vampires loved so much. He’d paused once in a while to get the big picture, notice the spots left untouched, enjoy the wiggle made by the taught flesh being stricken, listen to the breathy rattling of the numbers, and even to drop an encouragement here and there. 

This moment was just for Angel, to bring him joy and contentment. The next part of course will be all about Spike… Once his ass had been tenderized, once he thought all his will power was gone and he couldn’t do it anymore, then Angel will pick him up, rebuild him from the ground up. But it was neither here or there; right now, it was about forgetting any and all thoughts of the world, focusing on the pain searing through the chastised body, binding the two of them in the most intimate manner…

“Twenty” and Angel was surprised. It had been slow getting there. Usually these first spanks would be fast and furious, meant to get them both to the serious whipping, the boy would deserve. Today though, he was obviously taking his time… He sure wasn’t the man, well vampire, he used to be… The good news was that Spike was also taking it better. The slow build up acted like a warm up that lulled him into that sub-space anyone on the receiving end of a sustained spanking wants. 

The blows were stinging but not intolerable, the heat produced blended nicely through the backside, the endorphins had kicked in and the world had faded away: the perfect application of pain, Angel really was a Master at this!

And so it went, until Spike collapsed. The one had been whispered with just relief behind it. He was exhausted, all that self-discipline weakening him to be putty in the arms of his disciplinarian.

He let his arms go, falling limply to the side. His tears were leaking from his screwed eyelids unbidden, his body completely relaxed on the back of the sofa, his mind floating, Spike was spent.

Angel came to him, stroking his back, his neck, pushing away sweaty strands of hair, talking to him non-sense as Spike wouldn’t have been able to process a thought at this time anyway and surprising both of them, he even dropped a kiss on the tear stained face looking his way.

He rose up again and came back with a glass of water that Spike gulped easily, of course, Angel couldn’t let that be, he dropped the remainder of the glass on Spike’s hot backside.

“Fuck, man. What was that for?” The cold water contrasted so much with the heat, it was the wakeup call Spike just didn’t want.

“Don’t talk Will. Fold your hands underneath you and close your eyes!”

“Angel, I swear, I had enough. I’m fine now.” And Spike truly believed that but Angel had some experience with disciplined miscreants begging to be let go before penance has been made, so he pushed his boy down and followed him with all his body, folded at his back he whispered again: “Don’t rise up, and behave. I got your back!”

Spike wiggled a bit, found a comfortable position and reached out for a pillow to hold, all the while Angel stayed over him, letting his bulk, his heat, his presence reassure the other vamp, he will be here for the long haul, he doesn’t have to think, to decide a thing or to be the hero anymore: he simply had to be and enjoy the freedom coming from it.

 

*** *** ***

 

Angel kept a strong hand on the dip at Spike’s back. It anchored both of them and with his other hand he slid his leather belt of the loops, folded it and tested it quickly against his muscled leg. The sting was sharp but acceptable, so he backed up to the side and swing.

“One” And now, it was Angel time to count, because he knew Spike couldn’t. And there was no need to make this a battle of will, Spike had surrendered, he trusted him with his body and his mind. All decisions were now in Angel’s hand.

The amount of licks he’d be getting, the strength put behind them, their reach; every time this belt will strike his ass, sit spot or thighs it will be because Angel know what is best for him at this time.

“Two”

Spike had already closed his eyes, trying to relax his red buttocks as to reduce the bite of the leather, swallowed a sob and finally found focus on the present.

“Three”

Spike’ back bowed over that nasty one but already he was back in the present, conscious of the huge hand pinning him down, the growl telling him to settle down, the fact was he couldn’t remember what his doubts were about, he couldn’t think of anything else but the now.

“Four”

Angel was paying attention to Spike posture, his body would be able to tell everything he needed to know about the pain he was inflicting him, the place his mind was reaching and the moment the spanking will move from punishment to pleasure. 

Angel planned on going to twenty, probably switching side at ten. From experience he knows that any of the lashes need to make a statement. Between them, there were much longer sessions, most of them sadistic in nature but that was the nature of their beasts… Today, he wants it short and to the point.

“Twelve”

The belt was supple, perfect to conform to the warm globes offered to its kiss. The impact stung but it’s the raised welts in its wake that made for the real testament of this spanking. This torture was agony now, but it will only be a throbbing ache for the night and day to come, drowning any sorrow or anguish present, the smarting ass finally leaving room to the renewed trust in the world and his people.

“Sixteen”

 

Angel wanted to be the person Spike could rely on. He could be his alpha and his omega, be the safe place where the other could fall apart and rebuilt himself. So, he really applied himself on those last strokes. The belt was biting in the abused flesh, pushing the boy forward with its force, awakening the sore spots left from the hand spanking and eliciting grunts and cries as appropriate.

“Twenty”

Angel let the belt fall on the plush carpet but Spike was so much in his own world by then, he did not realized his ordeal was over. He was shedding tears in the crook of his arms, and Angel couldn’t resist, he picked him up and turned him to cry in his arms. He knew his own strength and appreciated how hard it must have been for Spike to get through this spanking but he was also humbled by the trust he had given him, depending on him to find his balance again, so he held him tight, stroked his back, and told him how everything would be okay.

 

There was no doubt; tomorrow would be a better day. And to Angel it will be a better one, because Spike is in it. It’s one more day that he wouldn’t have to bury a friend, to turn his back to the one person that understands his dual personality fully and that he wouldn’t have to fight alone.

 

As they both calmed down, Angel brought Spike to the front of the sofa, pushing him down and settling him up to rest more comfortably. He even brought him another glass of water and a sheet from the linen closet to cover himself, and then, he took a book and sat to read, furtively checking on Spike and only satisfied when the vamp closed his eyes and settled for a nap. 

 

Yes, this spanking was good for the both of them!

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this, your support is appreciated!
> 
> This story can also be found on my LJ: http://cordy69.livejournal.com/19726.html


End file.
